Harry Potter's Muggle-Magic Music Contraption
by DellyDaaa
Summary: After waking in the middle of the night from a confusing reoccurring dream about Malfoy, why does Harry find the sneaky Slytherin with his mp3 player, listening to muggle music, and muttering his name? It just doesn't make sense, does it? Drarry, DM/HP, sortaSONGFIC, Eighth Year, fluffs, warnings inside. Featuring awesome music from one of my favorite bands!


**So, I'm not surprised that I've come to a point in my life where my love for Harry Potter and my love for music have overlapped in the form of a story! I guess you could say this is a 'song fic'. Two songs play an important part in the story. I don't know.**

 **The two songs referenced in this are** _ **I Want To Tell You**_ **and** _ **I Want You (She's So Heavy)**_ **both by The Beatles. (I know, probably the two most random Beatles songs I could have picked, but what can I say? I was inspired and I thought they worked.) I'm pretty sure everyone knows The Beatles at least a little, but I highly recommend them and everything they've ever done! Okay, I'm done being a crazy music obsessed person. :P**

 **Also, I threw a brief explanation about this into the story, but let's pretend that mp3 players can work in Hogwarts… also that they even existed in the year this takes place… yeah… just use your imagination with this one. Oh, and I use the term mp3 player instead of, say, an iPod, I just felt like it worked better to be not-so-specific with the type of device. That's just my personal preference I suppose.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy and please if you can let me know what you think!**

 **WARNINGS: Slight sexual themes, lots of swearing, a little OOCness I guess I think, FluffFluffFluff (what's new?) …that's all I can think of at the moment.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything about Harry Potter OR The Beatles music. I make no money or anything like that from this.**

 **(I apologize for the endless blabbering, on with the story!)**

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 _Harry Potter's Muggle-Magic Music Contraption_

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Harry Potter woke suddenly. His eyes snapped open as he bolted upright in his bed. He blinked a few times, then rubbed his eyes. He looked around, but in the pitch-black darkness he could barely make out the curtains surrounding his bed. The Eighth Year boy's dormitory was completely silent.

Instead of putting the oldest students back in their respective house dormitories, all those who had returned to complete their education, after having their seventh year disrupted by the war, had been put in a previously unoccupied tower. Despite many being skeptical about how it would work, having members of the different houses forced to live together, it had been surprisingly successful.

Harry focused on what had caused him to wake up so abruptly. These dreams had gotten ridiculous. He'd dreamt about _him_ many times before, yet every new dream shocked him as if it was the first.

He'd grown accustomed to waking up with a thin sheet of sweat covering his skin and his pants feeling much tighter than they should. His conscious mind would remain filled with thoughts of blonde hair, pale skin, and grey eyes. He'd recall the imaginary sensations of delicate hands ghosting over his skin and plump pink lips pressing firmly against his. The dreams often went much farther than that. Most of them were sinfully dirty.

However, some of the more recent ones, like the one Harry had just woken from, were a little different. They were more… innocent.

Harry could vividly recall his most recent dream. They had been walking through Hogsmeade, hand in hand. Snow fell around them, which made sense as it was currently early February. They had stopped walking and turned to face each other. He had smiled happily as he raised a hand to run through Harry's hair, pushing off some snow that had collected there. He then leaned in to place a tender kiss on Harry's lips.

That was it. That was the whole bloody dream.

Harry thought to himself, _it's one thing to have sex dreams about Draco Malfoy, it's another thing entirely to dream of being with him like_ that _._

They weren't exactly enemies anymore; their rivalry had ceased to be. But they were nowhere near friends. Something had changed though, that much was clear. Gone were the days of petty arguments, swapping insults, and continuous attempts to one up each other. They were civil, but in the sense that they tended to simply ignore one another.

So why was Harry thinking of Malfoy in this way? At the very least in his subconscious.

He supposed it had started upon their return to Hogwarts for this repeat year. Harry had noticed, from the first time he'd laid eyes on him after the war, that Malfoy appeared to be different. He would come to learn that Malfoy was now more reserved, not cocky or boastful or even just plain mean as he'd once been. Yet still, he was confident and proud, but in a respectable way now. He held his head high, determined to prove that he was no longer the scared boy who had been sucked into the wrong side of the war.

Harry continuously watched him, despite the fact that Malfoy was apparently determined to disregard his existence. Harry noticed how he now interacted with his peers. He'd stopped trying to intimidate everyone. He no longer called muggleborns 'Mudbloods.' He treated everyone with equal respect, something Harry would never have expected from the Slytherin. Harry liked the new Malfoy he saw, even though that new Malfoy hadn't so much as looked his way so far this year.

If Harry were to be honest with himself, he'd admit he resented that Malfoy refused to talk to him. Hell, refused to even look at him. Harry had seen how he now got along with all the students in their year. He was friendly with members of every house, purebloods, half-bloods, muggleborns… and yet he made no effort with Harry. He supposed that having put an end to their arguments and fights was better than nothing. Still, this flat-out avoidance bothered Harry to no end.

It didn't help that Malfoy was absolutely fucking beautiful. Maybe he'd always been, Harry didn't know. Regardless, he hadn't noticed until they'd been thrown together again. That observation drove him mad.

He had started popping up in Harry's sleeping mind not long into the school year. The dreams had increased in frequency as time went on. Harry had no trouble admitting that he thought Malfoy was good looking, and figured the dreams were just a result of his hormones running wild. It was only within the past month or so that they had changed from purely sexual into something more… romantic? Harry wasn't sure if that was the right word, or maybe he just didn't want that to be the right word. He had never even considered that these dreams might mean he had feelings for the Slytherin.

Harry looked at his watch. It was nearing one in the morning. He'd never woken up in the middle of the night because of one of these dreams before. In fact, these dreams were probably what helped him most to sleep through the night, after everything he'd gone through during the previous year. He felt frustrated. He needed a distraction if he was going to fall back asleep.

He pulled his curtains open and swung his legs over the edge of his bed, his bare feet landing on the cold wood floor. He grabbed his glasses from his nightstand and shoved them on his face. He found his trunk and knelt down to open it. He began to search for his mp3 player. (Certain muggle electronics now worked in the castle and were permitted to be owned by students in an effort to promote education about the muggle world.) He groaned in further frustration when he couldn't find it.

He stood up, trying to think of where it could possibly be. He searched his bed, tearing through his sheets and pillowcases. He got down on his hands and knees to search underneath his bed as well. He looked on his nightstand and in its drawers. Then he rummaged through his trunk one more time before sighing defeatedly. He must have left it in the common room. He was so desperate to have his music for a distraction that he decided he would go down and comb the large, dimly lit room for the rather small item. He stood once again and began heading for the door that led downstairs. Just as he was reaching for the doorknob, he noticed something that made him pause.

Malfoy's curtains were open and he wasn't in his bed.

Harry squinted, trying to better see through the darkness. He didn't see any movement by the water jug on the windowsill that the house elves always left out, and he knew no one was in the bathroom since there was no light coming from the adjacent room.

He didn't know what he should do. Perhaps Malfoy wasn't in the common room. Maybe he'd snuck out of the tower to go to the kitchens, or somewhere else. On second thought, he doubted that. After the war, Malfoy had been placed on probation. Harry knew he wasn't likely to risk getting into trouble by sneaking out to wander the castle in the middle of the night.

Was it worth going downstairs if it meant he might run into Malfoy? Harry worried that seeing the subject of his dream so soon after waking up would do all sorts of horrible things to his brain. They'd be completely alone together for the first time. There would be no one else around to act as a buffer. Then again, if Harry did run into him, he would most likely be ignored as usual, so maybe it wouldn't be that big of a deal. He made up his mind.

He returned to the door. Once it was open, a soft light hit his eyes. Going from pitch black to even the lowest of lights shocked his system for a split second. Once his eyes were adjusted to the light, he stepped out of the dorm and closed the door noiselessly behind him.

He made his way quietly down the stairs. Continuing to wonder if he would come across the star of his dreams, he stepped lightly off the last step. He came to a dead stop when his question was answered. The unmistakable head of platinum blonde hair was the first thing he saw. He noted that Malfoy was sitting on a couch facing away from him. Harry knew Malfoy wasn't yet unaware that he had company because he heard the blonde muttering something to himself.

Not caring one bit that he was being extremely creepy by not immediately announcing his presence, Harry took a few cautious steps forward. Malfoy had stopped talking and was staring at something in his hands. Harry took one final step towards the couch, getting just close enough that he could see over Malfoy's shoulder. He was shocked when he recognized the object in Malfoy's hands as his mp3 player. Earbud headphones sat in Malfoy's ears, their wire flowing down to connect to the device.

Harry's initial thought was that he would yank the earbuds out of Malfoy's ears and demand to know why he was stealing his stuff. However, before he could execute his plan, Malfoy started muttering again. This time, Harry was close enough to hear what he said.

"Damn it, Potter… and damn this song for always reminding me of you…"

Harry immediately ceased all movement when he heard his name. He had to ponder what song Malfoy could be talking about that apparently reminded his former rival of him. He couldn't even begin to think of a specific song, as he had a plethora of music on that device. He didn't have to wonder for long, though. Once again, before Harry could have any reaction, Malfoy opened his mouth. He began singing softly.

The second Harry heard the first line, he knew what song it was. After all, this was _his_ mp3 player with _his_ music on it. Plus, he was a _huge_ Beatles fan. He would have been able to instantly recognize any of their songs. Harry could only listen to Malfoy's voice as he remained stock-still.

" _I want to tell you  
My head is filled with things to say  
When you're here  
All those words, they seem to slip away_

 _When I get near you_  
 _The games begin to drag me down_  
 _It's alright_  
 _I'll make you maybe next time around_

 _But if I seem to act unkind_  
 _It's only me, it's not my mind_  
 _That is confusing things"_

Harry was frozen where he stood. Malfoy had a lovely singing voice that suited the song quite nicely. Harry, of course, knew every word to the song. Still, he listened closely to the lyrics that Malfoy sang, unable to hear the actual music, as he tried to figure out why this particular song reminded Malfoy of him.

 _"I want to tell you  
I feel hung up but I don't know why  
I don't mind  
I could wait forever, I've got time_

 _Sometimes I wish I knew you well,_  
 _Then I could speak my mind and tell you_  
 _Maybe you'd understand_

 _I want to tell you_  
 _I feel hung up but I don't know why_  
 _I don't mind_  
 _I could wait forever, I've got time"_

Malfoy's sustained final note turned into a drawn-out sigh. Once more, he mumbled, "Damn it, Potter."

Harry chose that moment to act. As irked as he felt about Malfoy taking his things, he felt more anxious at the idea of speaking to Malfoy after months of being ignored. Not to mention after months of dreaming about him. He had to channel all his Gryffindor courage as he leaned over the back of the couch to gently remove the earbud from Malfoy's right ear. Malfoy jumped dramatically and made a short, high-pitched shriek.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Harry whispered into the now earbud free ear. "What is it _you want to tell me_?"

"H-How long have you been s-standing there?" Malfoy said breathlessly, clearly shaken by Harry's sudden appearance. An unsteady hand took the other earbud out of his left ear.

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "Unimportant." Then he grinned wickedly. "Did _you want to tell me_ … why you stole my mp3 player?"

He couldn't help but harass Malfoy by referencing the song, despite getting the feeling that Malfoy wasn't listening to it and associating it with Harry for any bad reasons. In fact, Harry thought it might be quite the opposite, based on those lyrics. He couldn't explain why that pleased him so much.

"I-I…" Malfoy was at a loss for words.

"Cat got your tongue, Malfoy?" Harry couldn't stop himself at that point. "I'm sorry, I thought _your head was filled with things to say._ "

Malfoy was finally able to collect himself. He scowled and said firmly, "Shut up, Potter."

"Oh no, wait, that's right. _When I'm here, all those words they seem to slip away._ "

"I said shut up, Potter," he practically growled.

"No," Harry said curtly. "Why do you have that? Did you know it's mine?"

Malfoy muttered something under his breath.

"A little louder, Malfoy. I didn't quite catch that." Harry was getting far too much enjoyment out of seeing Malfoy squirm. When Malfoy hesitated, Harry added, " _I don't mind, I could wait forever, I've got time._ " With that final quote, Malfoy cracked.

" _Fine_! I take it when I can't sleep. Happy?"

Harry studied Malfoy for a few moments. Malfoy was so obviously embarrassed, very unlike how Harry would have expected him to be. He almost felt bad.

"So, this isn't the first time?" Malfoy slowly shook his head in response to Harry's inquiry. "When did you start taking it?"

"I don't know, I've haven't been sleeping well since…" Harry knew he wanted to say, 'since the war,' but instead he said, "Sometime in September. I saw you showing this thing to Weasley. I thought it looked somewhat… interesting." The last statement came out sounding more like a question.

Tired of talking to Malfoy while standing behind him, Harry made his way around the couch and unceremoniously plopped himself down on it. He sat directly next to Malfoy, so close that it caused the blonde to visibly tense.

Harry continued by asking, "And it never occurred to you to just ask me if you could borrow it and try it out?"

Malfoy snorted. "Please, Potter. Like you would've let me."

"How do you know I wouldn't have? I'm all for educating a wizard with no knowledge of the muggle world about muggle electronics. Even more than that, everyone should know who The Beatles are."

Harry noticed that the second he mentioned The Beatles, Malfoy's eyes lit up.

"Oh, I love these Beatles people. They're fantastic. My favorite of all your music."

Without realizing it, upon hearing Malfoy's praise for something muggle, Harry's eyebrows shot up and he gaped. When Malfoy saw this reaction, he looked down at his feet, hiding his eyes behind hair that was slightly longer than it had ever been before and was no longer worn gelled back. Harry didn't miss the light pink flush that appeared on his cheekbones. After a quick moment, his head was lifted back up and he looked defiantly at Harry.

"Going to make fun of me some more, Potter? Or perhaps hex me for… borrowing your… muggle-magic music contraption?" Malfoy could barely get out the word 'borrowing' since they both knew he'd never asked permission.

Despite his previous irritation at having his stuff nicked by the sneaky Slytherin, Harry couldn't focus on that anger anymore. Instead, something in Malfoy's last sentence caught his attention, causing him to burst into uncontrollable laughter. Malfoy glowered at him indignantly.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," Harry said between bouts of laughter. " _'Muggle-magic music contraption'_?"

"Well, I don't bloody know what it's called! Besides it really _is_ like magic." He picked up the device and studied it from every angle. "I mean, how the hell does it _work_?" He sounded genuinely amazed.

That did nothing to curb Harry's hysterics. "You're hilarious, Malfoy, do you know that?" Malfoy just eyed him curiously until Harry was able to calm himself down.

"So, you're saying that if I'd asked you nicely, you might've let me borrow… this thing?" He held up the mp3 player that was still in his hands, clearly not wanting to call it what he had before for fear of being laughed at again.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Most likely."

"But you hate me."

Harry sighed. "I don't hate you anymore, Malfoy."

"Really?" Harry nodded earnestly in reply. Malfoy's next comment was said so low that Harry almost didn't hear him. "You sure act like you do."

Once Harry comprehended Malfoy's soft-spoken words, he gawked. "What makes you say that?"

Malfoy shrugged. "No reason."

"Oh, come on, Malfoy. Tell me how I make you think I hate you."

After a brief pause he grumbled, "You've never once this year made an attempt to have a decent conversation with me,"

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Malfoy felt the exact same way as he did about their relationship (or lack thereof).

"Yeah, and you've come up to me how many times and tried to talk to me?" Harry realized he sounded almost bitter.

Malfoy looked ashamed as he said, "I couldn't exactly be the one to go up to you."

"What? You definitely could've come up to me if you really wanted to." Harry didn't understand.

"No, Potter. I couldn't have." He hissed harshly.

"Why not exactly?"

"Because!" He would have been yelling, Harry could tell, but since it was the dead of night he refrained in an attempt to avoid waking everyone in the dorms. "You're bloody Savior-of-the-Wizarding-World-Potter and I'm lowly Death-Eater-Malfoy."

" _Former_ Death Eater. There's a difference."

"Bullshit." Malfoy spat under his breath.

Then he looked at Harry, _really_ looked him in the eyes for the first time. Harry felt like he was back in his dreams. Not the raunchy ones, but the more sweet and innocent ones. Malfoy's eyes were filled with a myriad of emotions that Harry couldn't even begin to decipher. But, fuck, those eyes were strikingly beautiful.

"Hey, if Savior-of-the-Wizarding-World-Potter says that you are _Former_ -Death-Eater-Malfoy _and_ that it makes a big difference, well then that settles it, don't you think?" He could have been joking, but at the same time he tried hard to express the sincerity in his words.

Malfoy said nothing. They sat in silence and Harry realized that he wasn't the least bit angry about his mp3 player anymore. Harry could only think about the fact that he was finally having the conversation he'd been craving all year. As he sat next to Malfoy, deep in thought, he was finally able to admit what he'd been denying to himself for months. Those dreams meant something. He had strong feelings for the man sitting next to him. He'd observed Malfoy from afar for a long time and came to many conclusions about how the war had changed him. He was now finding that he'd been spot on with all the things he'd previously only guessed about Malfoy. He liked it, all of it. He liked _Malfoy_. A lot.

Reviewing their conversation in his mind and thinking back to the song Malfoy had sung, Harry couldn't help thinking that maybe Malfoy liked him too. He wasn't sure though, and didn't want to assume. He'd have to press him a bit more.

"So, you like The Beatles, huh?"

"What?" Harry had apparently shaken Malfoy out of his own thoughts when he spoke. "Oh, yes. They're great. Very eclectic and versatile in my opinion. They have so many different styles of sorts, each of which is brilliant in its own way."

Harry had to chuckle and shake his head at that. Despite knowing it was a pretty pathetic joke, he said, "I hope you're not preforming Legilimency on me, Malfoy, because that's exactly what I think of them."

Malfoy had a proud smirk on his face. "I listen to them all the time. Literally everything of theirs. Well, everything of theirs that you have on this little music gadget. I assume you have it all though, because there's tons on here."

"Yes, I do have every Beatles album on there, and yes, it is a lot." He started to laugh again. "So how often do you take my mp3 player? Based on what you've been saying, I'm going to guess quite often."

"I don't know, maybe a few times a week," He answered honestly. Then, sounding defensive, he quickly added, "But I always put it back." That made Harry smile a little.

"Out of curiosity…" Harry hoped he sounded nonchalant despite being nervous about asking the question he most wanted answered. "Why does _I Want To Tell You_ remind you of me?"

He watched Malfoy carefully, but out of the corner of his eye instead of outright staring at him. He saw Malfoy swallow hard and look at his feet again. Harry had seen Malfoy interact with the other students in their year many times before, but he'd never seen him act like this. Malfoy was currently lacking a lot of the confidence that Harry was used to seeing him have. He was acting… shy.

Why was he acting so different around Harry? Why did he seem so shy? Could that mean what Harry hoped it meant?

"I'm going to take a wild guess here and say you heard my comment before I started singing?" Malfoy asked.

"Yes." Harry replied bluntly. He thought back to listening to Malfoy, and was unable to stop himself from saying, "By the way, you're a very good singer."

Malfoy was clearly pleased by the compliment. The confidence that Harry so admired in Malfoy came back for a moment as he grinned and said, "I know I am. But thank you, I suppose. It's nice knowing someone else thinks so, too. I don't let many people hear me sing."

Harry had gotten distracted and needed to get back on track. He was determined to remain focused on his interrogation.

"Back to my question." Malfoy's face fell again upon hearing Harry's demand. "What is it about that song that makes you think of me in particular."

Reluctantly, Malfoy took a deep breath and began trying to explain. "I suppose it's just… After the war, things changed for me. I've been able to make amends and get along with people I never thought I'd be capable of saying a single polite sentence to. But I haven't talked to you, not once until now… Actually, you're the person I've wanted to talk to the most. But whenever I'm around you, I just can't seem to find the right words, or any words really. Plus, like I mentioned before, I thought I was the last person you'd want talking to you. I want to thank you, among other things." He unexpectedly clamped his mouth shut at that point, as if he was trying to stop himself from saying too much. After a moment, he finished with, "I'm not sure if any of that made sense, but there it is."

"No, I think that made perfect sense."

Harry couldn't deny that he felt a little disappointed. He felt stupid for letting himself develop feelings for Malfoy, and even more stupid for thinking Malfoy might feel the same way about him.

Still, something in him didn't want to give up yet. Maybe it was the Gryffindor in him, giving him this almost reckless courage to keep going. Whatever it was, he realized that the more he thought about it, the more he felt like Malfoy was holding something back. He needed to pry a little more, to make sure. Since Malfoy hadn't replied, Harry took the opportunity to keep pushing.

"As much as I appreciate all that, I can't help but wonder if maybe you're not telling me everything… What did you mean by, 'I want to thank you, _among other things_ '? What are the other things?"

Malfoy went rigid. "I just meant… there are many different topics I believe you and I could discuss." He sounded unsure of his own answer.

"I don't know…" Harry continued. "I mean, you steal _my_ mp3 player a few times a week, when I know for a fact at least two of the other boys in our dorm have one. Then you sit around in the middle of the night listening to songs that you admit remind you of _me_." He couldn't help but grin as Malfoy's face grew more and more flushed. "Call me crazy, but I feel like I'm missing a bit of the story here."

"I take yours because it has the best music, Potter. The others have terrible taste," he said, as if it was the most obvious explanation, which really it could have been (Harry prided himself on his excellent taste in music). Harry paid attention to his voice though, not missing the almost imperceptible tremor in it.

"If you know that then you must have also taken Dean's and Justin's to listen to at some point?"

Malfoy's fists clenched in his lap. "Well, no, but…"

Harry crossed is arms over his chest, looking triumphant. "But…what?"

"What do you want me to say, Potter?" Much to Harry's delight, he'd finally snapped. "Do you want me to say I have a _thing_ for you? That _really_ what _I want to tell you_ is that I like you? That I like you because you're so ridiculously fearless and brave to the point that you're stupid? That I like you because you're so effortlessly and unnecessarily kind to every single damn person you meet? That I like you because when I watch you every damn day, I see you make everyone around you smile and laugh? And then I can't help thinking, after all you've been through, you shouldn't have to be the one to brighten everyone's fucking day? But of course, you _do_ brighten everyone's fucking day because you're bloody amazing. Plus, it doesn't hurt that you're beyond gorgeous as well. Is that what you want me to tell you? Because that's what _I want to tell you_. Now go ahead and mock me for the rest of my life why don't you."

Harry hadn't been expecting all of that. Yet, he felt elated more than anything upon hearing Malfoy's exploding confession. He considered his next move.

"Have you listened to the album Abbey Road?"

Malfoy whipped his head around to look at Harry again, confusion etched in his face.

"Of course I have, Potter," he replied skeptically.

"Can I see that?" He pointed to the mp3 player that Malfoy was still holding in his lap.

Malfoy snorted briefly. "As it's yours, I don't see why not." He handed it to Harry, along with the connected earbud headphones. His hands were shaking slightly. He seemed to be waiting for Harry to blow up on him. He seemed to be expecting Harry to have any number of negative reactions to what he'd accidentally admitted. Luckily for him, Harry had other intentions.

Harry untangled the headphones and put one of the earbuds in his left ear. "Here," he said casually, handing the other one to Malfoy, who warily reached out a hand to grab it and place it in his right ear. "I feel like listening to a song from Abbey Road with you."

As he began looking through the mp3 player for the song he had in mind, Harry said, "You know, I've been having a lot of interesting dreams since the start of this school year."

"Your point, Potter?" Malfoy asked, apprehensively. He hadn't moved away, as Harry had feared he might. Instead, he continued to watch as Harry searched the device. Harry hid the screen from his view, not wanting Malfoy to know what song he was picking before hearing it.

When he found the song he was looking for, he said, "My dreams have all been about you. I've only recently figured out what they mean…" And then he pressed play.

As the opening notes played in his ear, Harry watched closely for Malfoy's reaction. Only a few seconds into the song, stunning grey eyes widen in recognition and surprise. He looked up at Harry in disbelief.

"Why are you playing this song?"

Just as the lyrics were about to come in, Harry said, "Oh I don't know, maybe because…" He started to sing along with the music while looking at Malfoy with a playful smirk on his face.

" _I want you_

 _I want you so bad_

 _I want you_

 _I want you so bad_

 _It's driving me mad_

 _It's driving me mad."_

Harry was nowhere near as good a singer as Malfoy, but he could hold a tune. Malfoy didn't care about how his voice sounded, though, that much was obvious. Harry only had to sing along through the first verse before Malfoy interrupted both him and the song.

"You're so lame for this, Potter. You couldn't just say 'I like you too,' like a normal person? Bloody Gryffindor." All the same, he pounced on Harry, kissing him hard.

The earbuds fell out of their ears and the mp3 player slid off Harry's lap as Malfoy roughly pushed him back so that he was half leaning against the arm of the couch and half lying down. Their first kiss was messy and perfect, but far too short. Their lips disconnected as Malfoy moved to situate himself on top of Harry, straddling his hips. Harry groaned, both in disappointment at the separation of their mouths and in pleasure at the fact that Malfoy's body was now covering his own. As soon as he was settled, Malfoy kissed him again.

Kissing Malfoy was bliss. It was a million times better than any of his dreams. Malfoy's warm lips were softer than he could have ever imagined. They were insistent, parting so that his tongue could demand entrance into Harry's mouth. Harry happily and eagerly parted his own lips to let Malfoy in. Malfoy's hands made their way into Harry's already disheveled hair, gripping tightly to the dark locks. Harry instinctively wrapped his arms around Malfoy's waist, pulling their bodies as close together as possible. Both couldn't help the noises they were making as things grew more desperate, more passionate.

Once oxygen became a necessity, they pulled apart.

"You're sure you're serious?" Malfoy practically panted.

Harry deadpanned, "No, I just make a habit of going around letting random people who I have no feelings for and find completely unattractive snog me senseless." He rolled his eyes when Malfoy glared. "Yes, I'm very serious."

After a long moment, Malfoy seemed to accept Harry's confirmation. His glaring eyes softened and the corners of his mouth quirked into an unmistakable smile. He then proceeded to attack Harry's lips with his own many more times.

The 'muggle-magic music contraption' lay forgotten on the floor.

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 **So, that's that. Short and sweet, I think. Hope you enjoyed! I have a vague idea for something to follow this up with, another one with more Beatles songs… but we shall see whether or not I do it. Anyway, please let me know your thoughts and opinions in the form of a lovely review! They are always much appreciated!**


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